


never much, but we've made the most

by milominderbinder



Series: maia's shameless fic a day in the month of may [14]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Cuddling, Emotions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-14
Updated: 2014-05-14
Packaged: 2018-01-24 23:11:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1620362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milominderbinder/pseuds/milominderbinder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey lets himself be pulled up and onto the bed, and settles into the crook of Ian’s arm, pressing their bodies together as close as he can, resting his hand on the soft skin of Ian's arm, brushing his thumb over the freckles.  When Ian presses a kiss to Mickey's forehead, Mickey feels his whole soul cave in on itself.  He just feels <i>warm</i>, and full of something he thinks is like happiness but seems more important, somehow.</p><p>With Ian wrapped around him, Mickey falls asleep within seconds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	never much, but we've made the most

Carl and Liam are both already snoring when Ian and Mickey stumble into the room.

That's not exactly surprising - it's nearly four AM.  Ian's laughing, but he presses his lips together and drops quiet when he sees his sleeping siblings, shaking against Mickey’s side with the effort of keeping silent.  Mickey just grins.  Ian's barely even tipsy but he always gets giggly after a couple of beers; Mickey used to find it annoying, but these days he knows it's just hilarious, and kind of adorable, even if that's not a word Mickey likes to throw around.  Ian just seems - _happy_.  They've only been drinking together in front of the TV downstairs, hardly anything special, but Ian's acting like it's been the best fucking night of his life.  In his head, he’s probably decided it was a _date._ Mickey had just really wanted to watch Ice Road Truckers.

((If he’s honest, which he rarely is but sometimes tries to be for Ian, it had maybe been more about _who_ he was watching Ice Road Truckers with than the actual show itself.  Still.  It wasn’t a date, wasn’t a date, wasn’t a date.))

Carl’s foot is hanging off the edge of his mattress, and Liam’s little chest is rising and falling under his Spiderman sheets.  The whole upstairs of the house is quiet and still in that way it only can be in the middle of the night, and Mickey feels a little bad for disturbing it, when he knows any peace this house can get is a rare and needed blessing.  Ian clearly doesn’t share the same concern, though, just giggles into Mickey’s side for a moment longer before taking a deep breath, tugging off his pants, and falling face first onto his bed.  The mattress squeaks loudly when he falls onto it.  He turns his head to look at Mickey, who's still standing in the middle of the room, grinning.

Mickey knows he must look like an idiot.   He just doesn't especially care.  He's used to being stupid for Ian, by now.

After a second of staring at Ian, grinning, Mickey remembers that he’s bone tired and actually just wants to go to bed.  He pulls off his shirt, which is actually Ian's shirt and smells really good, so he's left in just his sweatpants, which are actually Ian's sweatpants and are too long, pooled around the bottoms of his feet.  His makeshift bed is still on the floor, just like it has been for the last six nights - as long as he's been staying at the Gallaghers.  He plonks himself down onto the floor and pulls the tangle of blankets up over his body, stares up at the slither of Ian he can see over the edge of the bed.

"Goodnight, man," he says quietly, feeling odd for sending his words out into the silence.  Without meaning to, he lifts his hand, the one closest to Ian's bed, and fists his hand in Ian's sheets where they’re dangling over the edge of the mattress.  He knows Ian can't see what he's doing, but he still blushes a little.  

((It's crazy, or at least it should be crazy, but somehow it manages to never quite stop feeling natural.))

But - as soon as he's connected to Ian in any way, he just feels _calm_.  When they're kissing it's like everything else in the world disappears and Mickey’s heart almost stops altogether; when they're just touching, casually, wrestling or leaning a hand on the other's arm, Mickey feels like all the tension in his body drains away from the point where they’re joined.  When they fuck Mickey’s brain short circuits, he goes crazy and soft and pliant and forgets about everything else in the universe, lets Ian do whatever he wants.  And even with things like this, just holding onto Ian’s sheets, just touching something of his, or wearing his clothes, or hearing his name - it slows Mickey’s frantic heart, lets his breath come a little easier.  He closes his eyes, surrounded by _Ian,_ and feels like he could drop to sleep in a second.

He's heard people compare love to mania before, say that it's like a hurricane or a storm or something chaotic, say that if it doesn’t set every inch of you on fire you’re doing it wrong.  But that’s not how it is, for Mickey.  Mickey’s spent his whole life tense, his whole life frantic, his whole life with his mind whirring and his chest itching and his entire body ready to fight or flight at any given moment.  If that’s what love is supposed to be like, Mickey doesn’t want it - he’s sick of that more than he can even comprehend.  Love, for Mickey, is Ian, who makes him forget the bad things, who makes him feel calm and quiet and safe, like he’s wrapped up inside a fuckin’ fuzzy blanket or something, being fed soup.

For a moment, Mickey lies there and enjoys the rare silence in the house, with Ian above him, close to him, and Ian’s siblings surrounding him but somehow not making him feel trapped.

((He imagines, briefly, how he'd feel if it was his own brothers lined around him like this, and has to swallow, hard, just to shake the fear from his throat.  He thinks maybe he wants to stay with Ian forever, for more reasons than one.))

Then, Ian breaks the silence.

“Come here, idiot,” he says.  He half sits up from the bed, and Mickey can see in the darkness that he’s smiling fondly, rolling his eyes.  He reaches a hand out and grabs Mickey’s wrist, pulls him up.

Mickey panics for a moment, looks around at the other bodies at the room.  He’s been staying with the Gallaghers for nearly a week, but as far as anyone but Ian knows, it’s just because of marital troubles, not because he’s fucking one of them.  Mickey doesn’t _want_ anyone else to find out, is happy enough just having Ian to himself in the quiet moments of their lives.  He doesn’t want to sleep in Ian’s bed with him, even if he actually _does_ want that more than anything else in the world, because then people will _know._

But when Ian’s looking at him with those wide, amused eyes, he knows he’s lost all resistance.  He lets himself be pulled up and onto the bed, and settles into the crook of Ian’s arm, pressing their bodies together as close as he can, resting his hand on the soft skin of Ian's arm, brushing his thumb over the freckles.  Ian presses a kiss to Mickey's forehead, and Mickey feels his whole soul cave in on itself.  He just feels  _warm,_ and full of something he thinks is like happiness but seems more important, somehow.

With Ian wrapped around him, Mickey falls asleep within seconds.

((He doesn't think about how easily he's been throwing around the word  _love_ in his own mind lately.  If he doesn't say it out loud, it's not real, after all.))

\--

When Carl wakes up the next morning, the first thing he sees is Ian and Mickey tangled together on Ian’s bed.

He rolls his eyes as he jumps down from his bunk, searching around on the floor for a clean-ish t-shirt.  They’ve so obviously been dancing around the whole _couple_ thing for a while now - Carl’s overheard about ten conversations between them, arguments really, about whether or not they should tell Ian's family.  Carl couldn’t actually care less - he’s just glad he won’t have to worry about accidentally standing on Mickey while he’s asleep on the floor anymore.

Finding a shirt that seems clean enough, he pulls it over his head, and then begins the hunt for socks.  It’s a cold morning, still in the middle of Chicago winter and the heat in their house is off again, so his toes are freezing where they curl into the floor.

There aren’t any socks in the sock drawer.  The sock drawer is instead full of dirty laundry and a roll of condoms.  Carl starts hunting on the carpet, under the beds.

Which is why he’s nose to nose with Mickey when Mickey wakes up.

Carl quickly jumps back when he sees Mickey's eyes flutter open.  It seems to take Mickey a moment to realise what’s going on, his expression at first blissfully happy, more peaceful than Carl’s ever seen it as he snuggles back a little into Ian’s arms.  Then he spots Carl looking at him, and his whole body tenses, eyes shooting wide open.  He sits up with a jerk, ripping Ian’s arms away from him.

“It’s - I’m - it’s not what it looks like,” he says frantically, arms flailing about like he can’t decide whether he should beg or reach for his gun.

Carl rolls his eyes.

“I’ve walked in on you sucking his dick like, five times, chill already,” he says, pulling on the first two socks he finds - one blue and grey striped, the other baby pink with a hole in the toe - and heading towards the door, ignoring Mickey’s terrified expression.  “Debbie’s making pancakes.”

Mickey still looks terrified, and then confused.  Carl rolls his eyes again, and adds, “See you down there.”

**Author's Note:**

> for the fic a day in may challenge, and anon prompt on tumblr: _Mickey says "All right, good night man" before settling down on the floor next to Ian's bed and Ian smiles before pulling Mickey up to the bed with him "Come here"_
> 
> i feel like this fic was kinda nothing????? oops, hope you liked it anyway?? anyway i listened to _welcome home son_ on repeat the whole time i was writing it and i ended up in genuine emotional tears, i have no idea what happened there, i might be crazy or something idk. music is _amazing_ and so is this couple.
> 
> send me more prompts and shit: [mickeymilk](http://mickeymilk.tumblr.com).


End file.
